This Clock In My Wrist Poem by Opara Franklin

At the dawn the sun rises,
Fading away within hours
Like the melting ices,
Themselves, the stars and moon
Radiate in their places.
Fading away, again too early
Like the grasses.

Yet, this clock in my wrist
Never stops ticking.
Every now and then it ticks,
At my bed time, it ticks.
When I wish to wait for thee, it ticks.
To thine majesty, oh Princess
Of Mberi, time cant be tricked
Or we stand the risk.

Just a brief moment,
I pray thee, listen to my comment.
Our years are numbered,
As time places it hands on our bomber
And yet, account we must render.
At the last day when we shall
All surrender.

Yet, this clock in my wrist
Never stops ticking.
Every now and then it ticks,
At my bed time, it ticks
When I said it does not matter,
How long a time it takes,
To win thine heart, oh princess
Of Mbaitoli and of Mberi.
Even more and more it ticks.

My heart have I not surrendered to thee?
In my nights, hast thine picture not decorated my dreams?
At day time, hast thou not filled my thoughts?

Yet, this clock in my wrist
Never stops ticking.
Every now and then it ticks,
At my bed time, it ticks.
As my heart beats for thee, it ticks.
As I think about thee, it ticks.
As I am watching thine pictures
Holding it tight to my chest, it ticks.